


touched by angels though I fall out of grace

by ariaxm



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Minecraft Youtubers, badboyhalo - Fandom, mcyt, skeppy - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blasphemy, Blood, Blood Kink, Blood and Torture, Catholic Guilt, Corruption, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Knifeplay, Lemons, M/M, Mutilation, SMPLive - Freeform, Sadism, Smut, Whump, heavy blood, mcyt - Freeform, minecraft youtubers - Freeform, not the catholicguilt!badboyhalo fic..., religious trauma, skephalo whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26039149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariaxm/pseuds/ariaxm
Summary: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT (this fic is super graphic and deals with mature themes. I have trigger warnings at the start of every chapter so please don't ignore them if they apply to u. thanks for all the support, mwah)a religious themed skephalo angst fic (featuring an evil!badboyhalo)(I would also like to put it out there that I realize how harmful real person fiction can be. please be respectful to both them and me by not sharing it with them!! this is purely fiction)please stay safe!!
Relationships: skephalo - Relationship, skeppy x badboyhalo
Comments: 181
Kudos: 513





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> author's note (very important, please read!)  
> this fic contains graphic content! please read the warnings for possible triggers. if you know it'll make you uncomfortable, please click away.  
> TW:  
> \- graphic depictions of blood/violence  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- religious trauma/guilt  
> (I would also like to put it out there that I realize how harmful real person fiction can be. this was written about skeppy and bad's minecraft personas, not their actual selves. please be respectful to both them and me!! this is purely fiction)  
> please stay safe!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> \- graphic depictions of blood/violence  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- religious trauma/guilt  
> \- knifeplay

"Muffins?"

"Come on, it'll be perfect. You always talk about muffins dude, let's make some! Didn't you say you wanted to do more stuff together in person anyway?"

"I mean yeah..." Bad hummed, tilting his head to one side. Since the duo finally decided to move closer together, they had no excuses left to not meet up. They both obviously loved spending time together, but because most of their relationship had been online, the physical silences were devastatingly painful. That's why they mainly stuck to late night voice calls after their streams, like this one tonight.

Bad leaned back in his pleather chair, trying to think. "I guess that could be fun... yeah, muffins! Muffins are good!" he suddenly giggled, now excited for their plan. He could hear Skeppy chuckling on the other side as he exhaled.

"Great, so it's a date."

That word made Bad's stomach flutter.

"Can you come over at noon?" Bad asked.

"Mhm, noon works. See you then. Night, bad."

"Good night, Skepp-eeeee," Bad drew out his 'e' in a singing voice. A smile remained on his face even after he closed the call window. What's better than spending a day baking with your best friend? He was genuinely excited for the next day, and prayed it wouldn't be awkward between them.

Actually prayed.

Next to his bed, he dropped to his knees and held his hands together, eyes closed lightly and soft lips parted. He let out a sigh.

Dear God

I pray you bring us good luck and love tomorrow afternoon. I thank you for blessing us with the opportunity to be so close, and be able to meet in person. Thank you, Dear Lord, for understanding how much he means to me...

I love you, Dear God.

Amen.

Slowly he opened his eyes, kissing his thumbs and signing the cross on his head, chest, and shoulders.

This was his nightly routine, to pray every night for both him and Skeppy's protection. There was a deep fear instilled in him from a young age that if he didn't show his devotion, everything he knew and loved would be taken away as punishment.

He couldn't risk losing what he loved.

Though it seemed like a simple religious exercise, Bad was really haunted by it. Everything he did was dictated by whether or not it would please God. Sure, his friends made fun of him for avoiding swears like the plague or never taking the Lord's name in vain, but the scrutiny was worth it if it meant he'd be safe.

He pretended he loved his God, but deep down he knew he resented it more than anything.

All he wanted was to be in control. But he had lost that to his church long ago.

A salty tear streaked down his cheek, landing silently on the comforter he was leaning over.

He turned off the light and went to sleep.


	2. chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> \- graphic depictions of blood/violence  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- religious trauma/guilt  
> \- knifeplay

Three knocks on the door jolted Bad up from where he was sitting in his room. He checked the clock - 12:17. Skeppy wasn't always punctual, but he brushed that aside. Excitedly, he opened the front door.

"Hey." Skeppy said quickly, lifting up a sweater-covered hand to wave.

"Hi!" Bad giggled, opening the door wider. "I'm so excited."

"Yeah, I can tell." Skeppy laughed back, playfully. Though it made Bad's heart clench a little bit. Was he not happy to see him?

"I found a really good recipe for chocolate muffins, it only takes a few hours too. Maybe afterwards we can play some games or something?" Bad led Skeppy to his kitchen, where he had laid out mixing bowls, measuring cups and spoons, wet and dry ingredients, and a cupcake tin.

"Sounds good." Skeppy smiled. "Let's get started!"

"Okay, so the recipe says..." Bad narrowed his eyes, reading the fine print off his phone. "Aw, muffins! I completely forgot the chocolate! We can't make chocolate muffins without chocolate!" Bad almost screamed. He was clearly upset.

"It's fine, we can improvise." Skeppy tried to calm him down. His smile was still spread on his dorky face, dark eyebrows knitted together in sympathy. He began rummaging through Bad's cupboards, looking for a chocolate replacement.

"Ha! You got a chocolate bar right here, Bad." he triumphantly pulled out some dark chocolate bars that had been stashed in one of the cabinets. "You can cut those up into little chunks, and I'll get started on mixing everything."

Bad sighed in relief, and turned his back to Skeppy to retrieve a cutting board and a knife.

A knife.

He didn't remember where he got the large kitchen knife from, or even ever using it. It must have been a gift from when he moved in. He knew he'd never buy something as dangerous, even if it was for cooking. He slowly took the silver blade out of the drawer, feeling its whole weight in his hands. The stainless steel blade reflected his amazed face perfectly in silver. His soft hands fit almost perfectly around the handle. One million thoughts ran through his head as he stood there, holding the dangerous weapon in his hand.

Somehow he snapped out of it. Closing the drawer, he unwrapped both chocolate bars and began to chop up the sweet candy. Skeppy was still making a mess behind him, moving around pots and pans and trying to follow the simple instructions. Bad didn't bother to turn around. He wanted to, but the knife in his hands had captured all of his attention.

Almost all of his attention.

"Shit-Fuck! God fucking damn it" Skeppy shrieked, grabbing Bad's attention instantly. Those words - God fucking damn it - they stung his mouth like sour venom. Without thinking, he lunged forward at Skeppy, pointing his knife at him.

The Third Commandment, Bad knew all too well, was to never take the Lord's name in vain. This, among the many other strict rules around religion and cursing (especially the two combined), were ingrained into his psyche since a young age. It was like learning the alphabet.

"Language, you muffin!" he whined, the tip of the knife's blade pressed against Skeppy's light blue sweatshirt. Skeppy's eyes went wide, his breath hitched and heart standing still. He looked down at his stomach, where Bad had his kitchen knife pointed at. It pressed lightly into him, not deep enough to break skin but certainly would be had he been a few inches closer.

"B-bad-" his voice cracked. His arms were raised above him, in surrender. "Bad, put that knife down... please..." he almost whispered.

Like a spell broken, Bad's hand opened and the knife clattered to the tile floor. Bad puffed out a heavy breath, trying to process what had just happened.

"Skeppy..."

"Skeppy I'm so sorry. I didn't - I forgot I was holding it, I didn't mean to... I didn't want to hurt you... are you hurt?" Bad immediately closed their distance and hugged him tightly.

"Dude, I'm fine. I'm just freaked... what the fuck was that?"

Bad's breath hitched once more. He separated himself from the boy.

"Come on-" Skeppy sighed, frustrated, "it's because I cursed? I burnt my hand on the oven, I bet you'd curse too. It's not worth almost stabbing me over."

"It's- you don't get it."

"Whatever man."

The rest of their "date" was spent in silence.

Skeppy didn't stay afterwards to play video games.

Dear God.

Today I held a knife in my hands for the first time. It burned my flesh like a hot iron. It felt so wrong to have a weapon in my possession to do whatever I wanted with. It felt so sinful. Please, dear God, forgive me of my sins... And please let him know I never meant to hurt him.

This feeling won't replace you, dear God.

Amen.

He couldn't sleep.

It must have been hours since the moon had risen. The memories of that day kept running laps in his head. The heavy weight of the knife in his hands. The anger stinging his veins when he heard Skeppy-

Skeppy...

He leapt out of his bed and grabbed his phone to call him. It had been way too long since they last talked.

"Hello?" a sleepy voice answered on the other end. Did he wake him up?

"Skeppy- I'm- are you doing okay? After what happened?" Bad scrambled to speak.

"Yeah man, I'm fine. I forgive you dude, it's all good."

"Aww, thanks so much!" Bad smiled while speaking. "I promise I won't murder you next time we meet up."

"Heheh, that's a relief..." Skeppy yawned. Bad imagined what he looked like on the other end. Was he in bed? At his PC? He smiled, knowing he was probably wearing his blue sweatshirt from earlier that day.

"Sorry for waking you up." Bad apologized, sitting down at his bed.

"I don't mind. But I gotta go now, 'kay? G'night Bad."

"Good night Skeppy!"

The smile on his face slowly faded as the silence once again filled his bedroom. He got up and flicked on the light.

Before he left his room, the cross hanging at his door caught his attention. He had it since he was in Catholic School. Usually he uses it to pray with.

He walked past it.

His mission was simple and direct. It lay in the kitchen drawer, right where he left it after he cleaned up his kitchen from earlier that day. The knife.

Slowly he opened the drawer. The silvery weapon caught the light of the moon, reflecting into the pitch black room. He picked it up and twirled it in his hand, running his fingers on his other hand along the blade. It was so sharp, he didn't even notice how it cut his skin. The red blood dropped down the silver knife, and finally onto the floor. His breath hitched.

In that split second he felt in control.

He felt the sting of the cut on his finger. He felt the warm blood drip down his hand. He felt the cold knife in his hand. He knew he made himself feel pain. He knew then he had power. He could hurt someone. He could make someone feel fear.

And he couldn't stop thinking about it.


	3. chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> \- graphic depictions of blood/violence  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- religious trauma/guilt  
> \- knifeplay

"Wanna come over tonight? Maybe watch a movie?" Bad questioned into his microphone. He and Skeppy were playing a quick round of Sky Wars to pass the time on the boring Saturday night.

"Woah, on a church night? You sure about that, Halo?"

Bad blushed. Skeppy only called him Halo in the context of talking about his obsession with his religion. Usually it made his skin crawl, but this time it made him feel different. It made his cheeks red.

"I'm not going this Sunday actually. I'm trying to go less. Live a little or somethin'." Bad smiled. Skeppy hummed in thought.

"Sure I'm down. Nine work?"

"Nine works for me."

"I better get ready then. It's a date," Skeppy sang in a flirtatious voice, making Bad's already pink face pinker.

"B-Bye, Skeppy!"

Bad opened his desk drawer. He had moved the knife from the kitchen to his room so he didn't have to keep getting up in the middle of the night to see it. It was like an addiction. Despite his forgotten prayers for salvation, his new god was the knife. And in a way, himself.

He worshipped the power the knife gave him.

Three knocks on the door snapped him out of his admiration.

9:03 P.M.

"Heyy Bad!" Skeppy gleamed. He brought a small plastic grocery bag of snacks, including candy, chips, and two energy drinks. He wore the same light blue sweatshirt. Bad noticed a small hole in the fabric, and felt blood rush to his cheeks when he realized it was his blade that caused the tear. Clearing his throat, he opened the door fully and let the cheerful boy inside.

After getting all the snacks poured into bowls, the two of them sat on a living room sofa, the lights all out except for the bright television on. They picked an animated film (Bad's choice) to watch, and once the movie started they both relaxed into the couch. A fluffy blanket was draped over both of their laps.

They weren't sitting that close together, but their short distance felt suffocating. Bad tried his hardest to focus on the movie, but the warmth coming from Skeppy made him nervous and distracted him. He never quite noticed how nervous he got around Skeppy until this moment. Why was that?

Bad tried to concentrate on the screen. Skeppy turned to look at him midway through the movie; his soft eyelashes catching the light of the TV screen, his anxiously pursed lips, his pale green eyes darting back and forth as they tracked the characters move on screen. He was like a painting in an art gallery. Skeppy was mesmerised.

Bad felt Skeppy's gaze on him and turned to see him staring. They silently made eye contact as Bad smiled sweetly.

"What are you looking at, you muff-"

Before he could finish the question, Skeppy closed the distance and collided their lips. It wasn't aggressive or rough, but it was so passionate that it made Bad immediately kiss back. Bad gripped Skeppy's hoodie collar and brought him even closer, deepening the kiss and tilting his head to the side slightly. Skeppy found his hands holding the sides of Bad's round face, firmly caressing his soft cheeks that were warm with bliss. The two of them stayed like that for maybe a minute, eyes closed, making out on the sofa as the movie rolled in front of them. But neither of them were paying attention.

This was sweet. It made Bad happy. He was content. But he knew something was missing. He could accelerate his high, and make this moment feel even better. He broke the kiss.

"Let's go to my room." he said breathlessly.

"O-okay."

Holding hands, the two of them ran down the hallway and into Bad's bedroom. He slammed the door and locked it, making the cross on his wall shake and tilt on its side. Bad didn't care.

Skeppy landed with his back onto the soft bed, leaning on his bent elbows. Bad made his way over, smiling at the boy. His eyes were tinted with seduction, fearful yet excited for what was about to happen. They had only just shared their first kiss - and that's when Skeppy realized something.

"Bad- stop." Skeppy quietly protested as Bad climbed on top of him. He froze.

"Is something wrong? A-Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I just... Maybe we can move a bit slower?" Skeppy asked, face flushed with embarrassment and adrenaline.

"Of course. Yeah, of course, that's no problem. You had me scared, you silly goose!" Bad leaned away from Skeppy, helping him sit next to him on the bed.

They slowly leaned in for one more kiss when their noses bumped.

"Oh-"

Skeppy let out a loud laugh, making Bad smile wide. He held the boy's giggling face in his warm hands and leaned in. He tilted his head to the side so as not to collide noses again, and looked at him in his eyes through heavy hooded eyelids. As they both closed their eyes, their lips met in a gentle kiss. They sat on the bed, each kiss slow and intimate. It wasn't until their destined kiss that they both realized how much they wanted to hold each other so badly. Bad could feel Skeppy occasionally smile against his lips. Still, he needed more. There was a deep lust inside of him that just kissing couldn't satiate.

It was a lust for fear.

For power.

Control.

Like a switch, something behind Bad's eyes flicked. He moved his hand to the boy's throat, not hesitating how hard he squeezed the sides. Skeppy choked and immediately ceased his kiss -

"Wh-What are you doing?" he tried to ask, his voice barely meeting a whisper. He tried to pull on Bad's tight grip, but his hand stayed put around his neck.

Tears began to prickle at the edge of Skeppy's fearful eyes.

"Stop-Stop it!" he couldn't scream half as loud as he felt he needed to. "Bad, please- you're hurting me-"

His grip only tightened.

Skeppy's face was beginning to darken, not unlike the shade of his hoodie.

With great force, Bad pushed the suffocating boy down onto his mattress and let go of his neck. He didn't have the strength to get up and run, so he laid there panting and searching for air to refill his lungs. The sides of his neck were raw from the pressure.

Bad reached into his desk drawer and withdrew his sacred blade. He slowly walked over to the boy, keeping his eyes on the beautiful knife he held in his hands. Skeppy coughed hoarsely, trying to breathe.

"Bad-"

Bad once again used his empty hand to push on the middle of Skeppy's chest, sending him down onto his bed. He straddled on top of him, his legs spread on top of Skeppy's lap. He towered over him, twirling the knife around like a toy.

"You've been so bad lately, Skeppy~" he sang, now looking into the boy's eyes. Skeppy was beginning to sob. "Trust me, you're gonna like this. I'm teaching you a lesson, Muffin." he giggled. He waved his knife in the air like a wand as he spoke.

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry, Bad- please don't hurt me-"

The blade landed directly below Skeppy's neck, hooking onto the fabric of his hoodie. It trailed downwards, slicing through the fabric like it was nothing. It landed at the button on Skeppy's jeans, making him shake beneath Bad.

Bad slowly removed the severed hoodie, delicately and carefully. Skeppy wore nothing beneath, exposing his soft skin to the cold open air.

Bad once again twirled his knife playfully, making Skeppy sob louder. He tried to wiggle his way out from beneath him, but that only made Bad sigh loudly.

"Oh, Skepp-eeeeee," he sang.

Setting down his knife, Bad grabbed Skeppy's wrists with his hands and pinned him above his head, laying him down completely. Bad hovered over him, his hot, angry breath making Skeppy shiver. He brought his lips to the boy's ear.

"You're gonna stay still for this, okay? Be a good little muffin for me." he whispered breathily.

Skeppy could only nod his head while shaking, his tears streaming down his face.

Bad lifted his head up from the boy's ear, and looked him in his eyes. They were red from crying. Sympathy washed over him, making him doubt what he was doing. Leaning in slowly, Bad delivered a light kiss onto the boy's trembling lips. He removed his grip on the boy's wrists, but Skeppy still layed there, too stunned to get up. Bad could no longer feel a smile against his lips.

Slllllice.

The cold knife ran downwards across the boy's bare chest. He cried out, choking in pain. Crimson red blood formed in beads on the deep and thin cut. Bad used the opportunity of Skeppy's mouth opening to slide his tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. He lightly bit onto his lip, making Skeppy tense up even more beneath him. His screams made Bad's body vibrate like a speaker.

Slllllllllice.

"Ah- Ah!" Skeppy moaned in pain as Bad carved into his skin more. It felt so amazing to make the boy scream beneath him. It felt even more amazing knowing he had no way to stop him. Complete. Control.

He kept hacking away at Skeppy, staining his white bed sheets red. Eventually Bad pulled away from the kiss, kneeling on top of the bleeding boy. He brought the knife to his face to get a better look at the warm, red blood dripping off the silvery metal. Both men were trembling; one from complete joy, the other from complete fear. Bad looked down at the boy, who was staring at him in horror.

He slowly brought the knife up to his wet mouth. His tongue connecting with the dull edge of the blade, the coppery blood mixed in his mouth with the taste of Skeppy's stolen kiss. His tongue glided down the blade slowly, savoring every taste of the metallic blood. When he finished with a satisfying lick, some blood dribbled off the corner of his mouth. He giggled.

He looked down at the boy again.

His eyes were now heavily lidded.

Bad only then realized the pool of blood soaking the sheets beneath Skeppy. The cuts on his chest and stomach were now wide open, blood spilling out.

The switch flicked back off.

"S-Skeppy?" he whispered. He dropped the knife to the floor in a clattering crash. With shaking hands, he held the boy's shoulders, trying to shake him.

"W-Wake up, silly..." his voice broke. The shiny lacerations made Bad scream, covering his mouth with both hands. He leaned down to the boy, holding his limp body in his arms.

"...Bad?" Skeppy mumbled, sleepy from the blood loss.

"Skeppy I'm so sorry..." he sobbed, squeezing his body.

"Dear God, what have I done?"


	4. chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> \- graphic depictions of blood/violence  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- religious trauma/guilt  
> \- knifeplay

“Ow.”

“Try not to move, Skeppy.” Bad sighed, squinting his eyes as he tried to focus on his work. His left hand delicately pinched the boy’s tan skin and his right hand swiftly pulled a needle in and out it, suturing up the wounds he had made.

They were both in Bad’s bathroom tub, Skeppy lying in between Bad’s legs. He had cleaned up his cuts, using alcohol that stung like hell to sterilize the wounds. He washed the bloodstains off his chest, throwing the towels in his washing machine along with the bloody sheets. 

Now they lay close together, strangely with more trust than would be expected after Bad… almost killed Skeppy. His heavy head lay in the crook of Bad’s left arm, watching him sew the thin cut running down the center of his chest. It was the biggest one, and the last one that needed to be fixed. Though it had been hours since he dried his tears, Skeppy looked up at Bad’s assiduous expression and wanted to cry. He thought he would breathe his last breath that night, bleeding out at the hands of his best friend and lover. He remembered feeling his throat close and his eyelids squeeze shut as he braced himself for the final impact, fear nipping at every nerve in his body. 

But it never came. 

Instead, Bad dropped his bloody knife on the floor below them, frozen in horror at what he had just done.

_ “S-Skeppy?” _

The younger boy’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier with every drop of blood that spilled out of his shaking body. From then on, everything was a blur. He could barely feel Bad carrying him to the bathtub, washing his body and drying his tear stained face. He could barely hear the panic in Bad’s voice, constantly asking him  _ “Oh my goodness… Skeppy, are you okay? Can you open your eyes? Keep them open, okay? Skeppy I’m so sorry…” _

_ “Skeppy, please forgive me…” _

_   
_ _ “Dear God…” _

“Okay… you should be all fixed up now. Are you feeling better? I’m sorry it hurt.” Bad brushed Skeppy’s dark fluffy hair from his eyes, looking into them with concern and clarity. Whatever demon possessed him to ever put Skeppy in harm’s way was gone.

At least, he wanted it to be gone.

Bad would be lying if he said he couldn’t feel that cold, dark feeling settling in the shadows of his mind. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t remember how  _ good _ it felt to have Skeppy’s life in his hands. To look into his fearful eyes and smile at the boy screaming, begging for him to stop hurting him. He shook his head.

_ Dear God, lend me your strength… _

With a final  _ snip _ , Bad cut the extra black thread attached to his sewing needle, inspecting his handiwork. He lightly ran his fingers down the tender skin, slightly trembling. It still had not fully set in what he had done to Skeppy. It never would.

“ _ Tsk, _ ” Bad clicked his tongue. Two dark bruises had formed on Skeppy’s thin neck from where he had gripped so tightly. He lifted his hand to touch the purple and red flesh, but was blocked by Skeppy’s sudden movement of his arm.

“Don’t touch me there.” he weakly demanded. It broke Bad’s heart, but he complied.

“I’m sorry Skeppy. I didn’t- I didn’t think it would go this far.” he whispered.

“What the  _ fuck _ is that supposed to mean? ‘ _ Go this far _ ’? It wasn’t supposed to go far at all. You maimed me, Bad, you fucking  _ maimed  _ me. Look at me!” Skeppy spat in a raw, hoarse voice, slowly raising his volume as he got angrier and angrier. This was the first time that night he let his true rage show, and he was seeing red from how mad he was.

Bad’s eyes shakily gazed down at the emotional boy resting on him. Skeppy’s bare chest was slightly smeared in blood from his previously open wounds. Cuts and hacks were littered across his torso, like little stars sprinkled in the sky. His ribs were adorned in small, crimson scratches and his collarbone had bites, slits, and cuts that stared right back at Bad’s teary eyes. When he blinked, the crystal teardrops fell on the boy’s body. Skeppy exhaled loudly, calming down from his burst of anger.

“Your… Your hoodie’s still in the wash, do you want to borrow one of mine?”

Skeppy looked up at Bad through his eyelashes. There he was. That was the Bad he thought he knew so well. Trying to help him as best he could. But did it matter? Did it matter how kind Bad was?

After what he had done to him? 

“Okay.”

It took a few tries to get Skeppy out of the bathtub. Eventually he stood upright, only to fall forwards into Bad’s arms for stability. Bad had to sling the wounded boy’s arm over his neck, half walking and half carrying him to his sofa. He lay him down gently, making sure he was comfortable before retrieving a soft, clean hoodie from his dresser.

It was pale blue. Bad’s hoodie that Skeppy gifted him.

He left and returned with a bottle of water and pain meds.

“You need to rest up. I can take care of you, if you want. Or I can drive you home in the morning. You can decide once you wake up.” Bad sat next to Skeppy on his bed, helping him open the water bottle and take small sips.

“Where are you going?” Skeppy whispered once Bad stood up from the bed.

“It’s the Lord’s Day. I’m going to mass.”


	5. chapter five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> \- graphic depictions of blood/violence  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- religious trauma/guilt  
> 

Since he was a child, Bad never missed church. That’s how he earned his nickname “Halo” from Skeppy - from his unblemished devotion to his religion. He started going because his parents made him, but once he lived on his own he just never stopped. It could be likened to an obsession. He went every Sunday at 8:00 in the morning, and stayed for the entire service. He confessed every Wednesday if he needed to, and always volunteered when he could. The other members of the church saw it as him being a good character.

Of course, he wasn’t holy at all. 

All he did for God was done out of fear.

He tried his best to deny that. He reassured himself of how safe the cathedral made him feel, how it was his home, how he was always welcome there. He wasn’t  _ lying _ to himself about that. Those were all true. But he always failed to acknowledge that he wanted  _ more _ .

The cold midnight air filled his nose as he walked out of his car and through the church parking lot. The heavy doors opened and closed and Bad stepped inside, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor. He always admired how beautiful churches were. Pausing at the entrance to the church, he dipped his hand in a small bowl of holy water and did the sign of the cross.

_ In the name of the Father, _

_ The Son, _

_ And The Holy Spirit. _

_ Amen. _

It was roughly one in the morning. Mass wouldn’t start for another five hours, but that’s not why Bad was there. He knelt down in between the rows of pews in a genuflection before settling into a wooden pew directly in front of the altar. The crucifix stared sadly down at him, and he knelt and bowed his head in prayer.

_ Dear Lord. _

_ This feeling I get from hurting others, I know it’s wrong. _

_ I know it’s sinful. _

_ I know I am a sinner. _

_ I beg for forgiveness. And strength, to be a good man of God. I know it’s my- _

_ My destiny, to be a man of God. It’s my purpose. _

He stumbled over his whispers alone in the silent church. The only light came from dim candles and the moon shining through the stained glass. 

_ Why do I love it so much, then? Why do I want to replace the hours I give to you with the hours I could spend slashing, slicing, sinning?  _

_ What’s wrong with me? _

_ Give me a sign, something. I believe you will.  _

_ Hail Mary,  _

_ Full of Grace,  _

_ The Lord is with thee.  _

_ Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.  _

_ Holy Mary,  _

_ Mother of God,  _

_ pray for us sinners now,  _

  
  
  


_ and at the hour of death.  _

_ Amen.  _

As he left the silent church, he once again dipped his hand in the bowl of holy water and crossed himself. The dried blood under his fingernails mixed with the cold water.

  
  
  


“Skeppy, I’m back.” Bad announced when he entered his house. It was still pretty early. He must have been asleep.

Bad peered around the corner into his room and saw Skeppy’s quiet body move up and down as he breathed, lost in his dreams. He watched his delicate figure as it lay curled up on his bed. With stealth, Bad grabbed a soft blanket from his linen closet and draped it over the sleeping boy. The older boy knelt down so he was eye level with him. He stayed like that for a few minutes, watching him breathe in and out. It was like therapy. Even though he was doing nothing but sleeping, he was so calm in his presence. He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on the boy’s temple. 

“ _ I love you, Geppy. _ ” he breathed. He was just about to get up when the boy sleepily responded.

“ _ I love you too, Bad… _ ” 

Bad’s face became flushed with embarrassment. Was he talking in his sleep? Or did he really mean that?

“Skeppy…” he whispered once more, “I’m so sorry for hurting you… I never wanted to hurt you.”

**_Liar._ **

“It’s… s’okay…” he slurred his words. 

“Goodnight Skeppy.”

He drove him home the next morning.


	6. chapter six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> \- graphic depictions of blood/violence  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- religious trauma/guilt  
> 

The day went on painfully slowly. Every few minutes he thought of a reason to call or message Skeppy, but had to stop himself.  _ He’ll talk to you when he’s ready, _ he told himself.

_ Bzzt. _

Bad glanced at his phone’s notification.

_ Skeppy is live now on Twitch _ .

“I shouldn’t.” he whispered to his silent bedroom. No matter how hard he desired to play with him, talk to him, just not be ignored by him, he had to stay strong and leave him alone.

For the rest of the week, Bad was more lonely than he had felt in years. He wanted so badly to call Skeppy and say how sorry he was, to beg for forgiveness, just hear his voice assure him that it would all be okay. But he never even sent him a text. He spent some time streaming, where his anemic energy didn’t go unnoticed by his viewers. Most of the time, though, he was at church. Praying. Confessing. Trying to repent for his sins. Asking for a sign. 

Then came Friday night. 

A knock at the door snapped him out of the trance he was in for the past hour or so. Oftentimes he would fall asleep at his desk, and he was just dozing off until those three knocks grabbed him by his shoulders.

_ What time was it? _

_ Did I fall asleep on stream again? _

“H-Hey guys, sorry about that…” he yawned into his headset. Thank goodness his facecam was off (it’s not like he’d have it on anyway - the dark circles under his eyes would raise even more suspicion than his audience already had). “Thanks for tuning in, I appreciate it… I better get some sleep. Bye!” he quickly ended the stream, embarrassed that he fell asleep like that. 

_ What is wrong with me? _

Three more knocks. 

“Coming!” he yelled, stumbling out of his room. Groggily, Bad made his way to the front door, unlocked it, and opened it to see none other than-

“Skeppy?” 

There stood the boy, awkwardly, in a black hoodie and his perfect fluffy black hair. It was clear and starry outside, and the cold night air rushed into Bad’s face, cooling off the blush that suddenly settled upon his cheeks.

Without any dialogue, the boy leaned in for a tight embrace.

_ Thanks be to God… _

_ Was this forgiveness? _

“Can I come inside?” he finally spoke, his voice muffled in the crook of Bad’s neck. Bad nodded, closing the door behind them with his foot. 

“Sorry it took so long to answer the door,” Bad chuckled, “I fell asleep.”   
  
“I know.”

Bad froze.  _ Did he watch his stream? _ Skeppy pulled away from him and smiled. Bad wanted to cry when he looked into the boy’s sparkling black eyes. They were so wide, so loving. It felt like centuries since he had seen them. His hands found their way to his cheeks and he cupped his face, framing his warm smile with his cold pale hands. 

“Geppy…” he whispered, staring at the younger boy’s pink lips, “I could never tell you how sorry I am.” his eyes darted back up into Skeppy’s where the two boys matched their gaze. “You don’t have to forgive me,” his voice cracked, “but I’ll always love you. No matter what.”

Skeppy gave him no more than two seconds of thought before closing the distance between them. Their lips connected like they once did before, and they both closed their eyes as they breathed in each other. Shimmering excitement ran down both of their spines, making their stomachs twist and turn at the feeling of affection. After their sweet passionate kiss, Skeppy was the first to pull away. 

“Bad, I want to help you. Let’s talk about this.”


	7. chapter seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> \- smut (m/m)  
> \- graphic depictions of blood/violence  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- religious trauma/guilt

Bad never told anyone about his fixation on religion. It felt like he’d go to hell if he opened up about how guilty the church made him feel. It was a symptom of the classic Catholic guilt complex. Feeling as though you have done something wrong, something sinful, and you deserved to be punished for it. Of course, Bad’s case was a little different since he had now done something very, very sinful.

And there was truly no remorse in him.

  
  


It was a battle. He could give into his tendencies and lose his best friend, or he could keep his best friend and their relationship but never feel that high again. It was good versus evil. Light versus dark. He loved the soft plush taste of Skeppy’s lips. But he also loved the stinging bitterness of his blood. Over the week he had spent in isolation, he began to slip into his fear of lusting for blood more than for love.    
  
He wanted to deny it, but his battle between love and blood was unfairly weighted towards the latter. Because it simply satisfied what he craved so much for so long-

Power. Control. Fear.

If he could feign remorse for his sins, he could regain Skeppy’s trust. He could convince him he’d never hurt him again and lure him just close enough to break his promise.

“Are you good, man?” Skeppy asked, leaning back into Bad’s soft sofa. He clutched a cup of tea in his hands, and Bad held the matching mug. 

“I’m okay.”   
  
“You should get it off your mind. Whatever is bothering you, you can tell me.”

“...” Bad sipped his warm mug.

“Come on dude- here. Think of it like this.” he stood up from his seat, taking both their mugs and placing them on a table. Bad stood up as well, confused but willing to comply.

“Kneel.”

“Wh-what? What?” Bad choked on his words. Pink blush creeped onto his face, and sweat prickled the back of his neck at the innuendo.

“It’ll be like a church confessional. You can confess to me what you feel shitty about, and I’ll, like, forgive you or whatever. One hundred percent judgement free.”

“Skeppy, you need to be a priest to receive confession. You won’t actually be able to absolve me of my sins.” 

“I’m better than a priest. I’m your friend.”

Once again, the internal conflict made Bad feel dizzy. Skeppy  _ was _ his best friend. He did so much for him. How could he pass that up for anything else?

Slowly, Bad knelt to the ground, one knee touching the floor at a time. His nose was met just inches away from Skeppy’s tight black jeans. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked up at Skeppy without moving his head, gazing into his eyes through his blonde eyelashes. 

The sight of him on his knees made Skeppy shiver.

“C-come on man. Say the thing.” Skeppy prodded ungracefully. Bad cleared his throat, clasping his hands together in prayer.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was yesterday.”

“Yesterday? Geez, you go to church on  _ Thursdays _ , Halo?” Skeppy laughed down at Bad. He glared back at him.

“Sorry. Continue.”

“My sins are… my sins are…” Bad bit his lip, considering if he should really tell him how he felt. He went over the possibilities.

He could tell Skeppy about his sick, sadistic love. It might scare him, and he’ll never get to taste his lips or blood again.

  
He could lie. Skeppy wouldn’t run away, and he’d be able to keep the soft, pastel colored love between them. 

Maybe even sneak some drops of blood if he was careful enough.

“Your sins are?” Skeppy brought him back out of his thoughts. He grinned down at the older boy, seeing him in such a vulnerable state. Bad hated it.

“I’ve been lusting. Lusting for my best friend in all ways unholy.”

“What do you mean by that?” Skeppy asked in a deep voice. He was now suddenly mesmerised at Bad’s honesty.

“I- I want him selfishly. I want to feel his touch, his- his lips,” Bad confessed breathlessly, “his body, all of him. I love him so much. In ways that are impure.”

Skeppy picked up his right foot and lightly pressed on the growing hard in Bad’s pants, making him whimper. He sounded like a weak little kitten, the exact opposite of how angry he felt. This was torture. He began to move his sock covered foot in small circles on Bad’s crotch, which drew out more mewling and moans. 

“Sk-skeppy, I-”

“Your confession isn’t over, Halo.” he said in a husky declaration. The nickname used in this context made Bad whine, squeezing his clasped hands tighter and bowing his head down to hide his red hot blush. There was now a noticeable tent in his jeans. Skeppy was also getting excited at his position of power.

_ Power? _

The standing boy brushed the thought aside.

“I’ve- I’ve been having- blasphemous thoughts…” his voice grew louder and more impatient.

“Such as?”

“Like I wanna worship you… worship you instead of God, Geppy-” Bad was almost screaming by the end of his sentence. “ _ Muffin _ \- You- you’re my religion and I want to-”

“Tell me what you want to do,” Skeppy was beginning to lose breath. He was still massaging Bad’s sex with his foot, but his motions became more and more shaky as he grew harder.

“Ah- ah, holy…” Bad whipped his head upwards, revealing his picturesque red face. It was glazed with a light, dewy layer of sweat, and his pupils were blown. His shiny mouth was agape, panting and searching for the oxygen it was deprived of. The red in his cheeks and nose were bright like blood, and his submissive gaze up at Skeppy was the ribbon on top. Just looking at him made Skeppy want to-

“ _ Skeppy! _ ” Bads screamed as he reached his climax. This position, while in prayer, made him want to die from the guilt and trespasses against God. Skeppy fell backwards onto the sofa behind him, finally resting from where he stood. As fast as he could, he unzipped his jeans and wrapped his palm around his sex, spreading precum around creating an explicit noise. Bad lay on the floor, trying to catch his breath as he came down from his high. He watched the younger boy sin in front of him, pumping his cock up and down faster and faster. Bad’s eyebrows knitted together, waiting for him to reach his orgasm.

“B- Bad, holy  _ fuck _ -” Skeppy choked on his words, startled at the sudden lunge he took towards him. In an instant, Bad’s hands were on Skeppy’s hard cock, mimicking his motions from just seconds before. 

“But my worst, most evil sin of all, Skeppy?” Bad huffed, staring into Skeppy’s half lidded blown eyes.

“H-haa- mm-”

“Is how badly,” Bad pumped slow and steadily, building up just like how Skeppy had to him.

“Mmph-”

“I want,” His pace sped up as his words grew slower and lower.

“Haa-” Skeppy panted, leaning his head back on the sofa. Bad quickly undid this movement, grabbing the boy’s neck with his right hand and pulling his head back towards his. He pressed the sides of his throat, stressing the exact same place where blue and purple bruises now lay. Skeppy moaned silently, unbreathing. It looked like he was trying to tell him something. He brought his hands up to pry Bad’s grip away from him, but couldn’t get him to budge.

Bad smiled impishly. He looked up at the boy through his eyelashes, bringing his mouth closer and closer to the head of his length. 

“...To never repent.” 

With one kiss to the tip of Skeppy’s length, he came onto Bad’s face. Bad never broke eye contact as he licked it all, listening to Skeppy’s breath return to normal.

“...Fuck you…” Skeppy huffed, breathlessly.

“Language,” Bad laughed.

They held each other close as they slept on the sofa.

  
  
  



	8. chapter eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> \- graphic depictions of blood/violence  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- religious trauma/guilt  
> \- knifeplay

"Bad, wait, let's talk about this-!" Skeppy furiously begged. The fear in his voice made Bad's nerves light up with fiery excitement. He chuckled sweetly, though his intent was dark.

"Okay, sure. Let's talk about this." He agreed, pressing shift to crouch across the field.

They were head to head in a 1v1 duel. It hadn't been close at all - Skeppy was winning by a landslide. Still, he wouldn't allow Bad to win one fight to protect his delicate ego. It was their tenth battle, maybe, and the late night was starting to make them delirious. They must have lost track of time.

"I… uh…" Skeppy was buying time, running away from Bad's red and black character. 

"What's wrong,  _ Skeppyyyyy _ ?" he sang into his headset, "Are you stalling? Weren't you the muffinhead who suggested we PVP in the first place?" He moved closer. 

"Ba-a-ad, wait!  _ Please! _ " Skeppy whimpered, almost moaning. Bad picked up his finger off his keyboard, shocked at the sound Skeppy had just made. He cleared his stuffy throat.

"What was that?"

"Please, come on man, let's- let's talk about this-"

Bad adjusted his black rectangular glasses. He continued sprinting forward, trying to focus on the game rather than the way Skeppy's begging made him feel like a-

Like a God.

_ Where did that come from? _

"YES!" Skeppy yelled, striking Bad from behind. Apparently he wasn't focusing hard enough, because during the time Bad's thoughts took over, Skeppy had looped around backwards and was able to gain the upper hand. He hacked away at him with his diamond sword, jumping up and down to create as much damage as possible.

_ BadBoyHalo was slain by Skeppy _ .

"Aw, come on!" Bad yelled, obviously upset at his stolen win. "I was gonna get you!"

"Uh-huh.  _ Suuure _ you were, Bad Boy Halo." Skeppy teased through the mic, unknowingly making Bad shift uncomfortably in his chair. 

"You-" 

Bad wanted so terribly to call Skeppy a  _ brat _ , a  _ muffinhead _ , a  _ sinner _ , anything to injure his pride. But instead he kept silent. It was rude to say those things.

So why did he want to?

Why did Bad want to kill Skeppy in Minecraft, and almost kill him in real life as well?

He once again shook off this thought.

Skeppy was his best friend, he'd never dream of killing him.

_ Right? _

  
  


"Okay, okay, you win. Good job," laughed Bad, followed by a short yawn.

"You getting tired, Bad?" Skeppy rubbed his eyes, which were now dry from staring at his screen for so long.

"Yeah… it's been a pretty late night. I think I'm gonna hit the hay." 

"Aw, alright. See you tomorrow."

"Byeee," Bad yawned once again, "Iloveyou."

The two of them froze.

"What was that?"

"N-nothing." a quiet voice answered. Bad sank back into his chair, covering his face with his hands.

"I'm pretty sure you said something, dude." he laughed.

"Uhhh, nope, I didn't- goodnight Skeppy."

"Okay, okay. Night."

Bad's green eyes twitched.

"Aren't you gonna say it back?" he asked.

"I just did. ‘Night."

“No, you need to say  _ good _ night, Skeppy.” Bad was starting to get flustered.

“I DID!” Skeppy yelled, laughing. Bad breathed heavily out of his nose. They’ve played this game before. Though for some reason it was especially irritating this time around.

"Skeppy, say goodnight to me. Now." Bad demanded. Even he was shocked by the coldness of his tone that silenced the call, the only sound coming from the in-game music. 

"Goodnight, Bad." Skeppy said quietly.

_ User has disconnected. _


	9. chapter nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> \- graphic depictions of blood/violence  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- religious trauma/guilt  
> \- mentions of self harm

He couldn't sleep.

Bad lay awake at what must have been past midnight, staring at his ceiling with open eyes without being able to close them. At some point in the night, his dog Lucy jumped onto his bed and curled up right next to his warm body. He smiled at the cute puppy, softly stroking its fur.

Pure white,

soft,

  
  


fluffy,

  
  


calm.

  
  
  


The exact opposite of him lay beside his own body. His emerald eyes had become sunken in by the loss of sleep. There was blood he never managed to wash off caked underneath his fingernails. His golden brown hair was tangled and messy on his insane head. It was a stark contrast of dark and light.

Bad brought his hands up from Lucy and covered his face with them. 

Dark and light.

Good and evil.

His internal dilemma was tearing him apart slowly and painfully. It was all that consumed his thoughts during the past few weeks. He was trying his hardest to stay strong, not to give into temptation.

But that night, something just snapped.

There was no use trying to sleep anymore. This urge inside of Bad's nerves jolted him out of bed and carried him into his kitchen. 

It was pitch black but still he could see it:

The knife.

It had remained on the kitchen counter where he had placed it after his gory incident with Skeppy. He really did try his hardest not to go near it - but enough had been enough. The tension within him had snapped. Without hesitation, he grabbed the blade by its handle. 

The cold handle colliding with his soft hands made him shiver with exhilaration. It felt almost orgasmic, the satisfaction of holding such a holy object. He felt dangerous. Powerful. Like he finally had a grip on something. 

In the dark of the kitchen, he waved around the kitchen knife. It was heavy in his uncareful hands, whooshing through the silent night. He let out a quiet giggle. 

His giggling soon turned into hysterical laughter as he cut through the air faster and with more violence. The sound of the blade hitting nothing made him smile wider than he could remember. Delirious from his sleep deprivation, his grip loosened more and more until-

_ Slice _ .

The first thing Bad noticed was the loud clatter the knife made on the tile floor. The second thing he noticed was Lucy's frantic barks from his bedroom in reaction to the crash, furious and panicked like angels screaming. 

He almost didn't catch the long slit the knife made in his hand on its way to the ground. It was gushing warm red blood.

"A-Ah…" he choked on his heavy breath. Bad immediately grabbed his bleeding hand, applying pressure to stop the fountain of crimson red. It hurt. It hurt so bad. 

"Oh my  _ goodness _ -" Bad whimpered. Tears started to form in his wide open eyes from the pain. 

_ It hurts so bad. _

_ It hurts so bad. _

_ Why am I smiling? _

  
  


The bleeding boy chuckled through his tears - why was he smiling? 

Why did he  _ like  _ the pain? 


	10. chapter ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> \- graphic depictions of blood/violence  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- religious trauma/guilt

Using the same care he used to fix up Skeppy, Bad bandaged up the laceration on his right hand with a clean white strip of gauze. The sun was now rising, sending golden rays down onto Bad through his bathroom window. When the light hit right, it lit up his pale eyes and soft skin, and created a glowing halo from where it shined through his fluffy hair, inappropriately mismatching his blood stained instability. When he finished bandaging himself up, he looked in the bathroom mirror and audibly gasped.

The boy staring back at him was unrecognizable.

Dark circles formed deep bags underneath his eyes, which had become bloodshot from staring at his PC for so long. His pallor was almost bone white - he looked like a ghost. Shaking, Bad brought up his wounded hand to feel his cold cheeks to check if his reflection was real. Some blood smeared onto his face from where it had soaked into the gauze, painting his pale complexion with one streak of dark red. Yes, he was very real.

It felt good.

But that's about all it felt.

It was a more simple pleasure, feeling your own blood drip down your shaking skin. It could be compared to a soft kiss, holding hands, innocently flirting. It wasn't a big deal.

What he  _ really _ wanted to feel was someone else's blood.

Someone else's authentic scream in reaction to getting their skin cut open.

The flame in their eyes going out as they give up struggling, accepting their violent fate. 

If inflicting pain on oneself was like a kiss, then torturing another was like sex.

Bad lifted his hand to his open mouth, licking up small drops of blood. The sour taste made him moan.

"Mmm-" Bad whimpered. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine the blood being someone else's. He tried to imagine holding a heavy knife and using full force to plunge it into someone's chest plate.

He imagined what they'd sound like screaming.

_ Skeppy's voice echoed in his ears. _

_ "Bad! Fuck, get off me! You're gonna fucking kill me!" _

_ "Bad, I'm serious- Bad, please!" _

_ "Ah- Bad, stop, please-" _

_ "...Bad…" _

Skeppy's screams and mewling sobs made Bad's heart beat faster. Memories from that night sent him over the edge, filling his chest with pleasure. His ghostly white face was now unbelievably flushed with arousal.

_ "This is why I worship violence _ ," he silently reminded himself.

_ "This is why I love to sin, _ "

_ "Because of him." _


	11. chapter eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> \- graphic depictions of blood/violence  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- religious trauma/guilt  
> \- mentions of self harm/mutilation

"Bad, you  _ suck _ at this!" Skeppy giggled into his headset. Him and Bad were playing another round of Bed Wars, 1v1, and Bad was failing miserably. 

He couldn't help his poor performance; he had been up all night playing with his knife and his sleep deprivation had finally gone to his head. 

It was absurd how obsessed he was with holding the knife in his hands. He even went as far as slicing and cutting himself, tasting little drops of spilled blood. He knew it was wrong to cut himself, but he didn't really have any other options. Skeppy hadn’t been over in weeks. As long as he didn't cut too deep, he was fine with slitting his soft skin from time to time to satiate the temptation.

But who was he kidding?

It was never enough.

Even when he hurt himself, he was still missing the two key elements that got him so high.

Fear, and Skeppy.

The angrier Skeppy made him, the stronger he yearned to hurt him again. His taunts and trash talk during their current fight was most definitely not helping his case. 

“Get good! Get good, Bad! Let’s  _ go! _ ” Skeppy yelled, ringing in Bad’s ears and bringing him back down from his impure thoughts. In red text, pixelated words displayed the message,  _ GAME OVER _ . 

“You are such a little muffinhead!” Bad whined, throwing his head back in defeat.

“Mhm. Sure.” Skeppy teased back. 

“Just admit it Bad;

I’m better than you.”

Skeppy's remark sent Bad into unfathomable rage. If having power was his high, being insulted like that was his come down. He did  _ not _ want to come down.

"Do you wanna come over tonight?" Bad clicked out of the game. Slowly, he began meticulously plotting his revenge on Skeppy with only cruel intent on his mind. He didn't know how much longer he could go without having Skeppy underneath him. 

Screaming. 

Begging for his life.

Getting him high.

"Uh, sure. What are we gonna do?" Skeppy asked.

"Maybe watch a movie?"

A chill went down Skeppy's spine at the response. The last time he went over to watch a movie, he-

The younger boy lifted a hand and held it to his chest. 

It had been weeks since the slit was sutured up and it was starting to scar. It still hurt. It was still raw and tender, making his heart ache with every subtle motion that it came into contact with. Through the light blue material of his hoodie, he felt his rapid heartbeat. He swallowed.

"Okay."

"Yaaay," Bad didn't have to fake his excitement. "I'll see you at nine!"

"Alright Bad. See you then.  _ I loooove you~ _ " the giggling boy mocked into his microphone. It made Bad's skin crawl. 

_ User has disconnected _ .


	12. chapter twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> \- graphic depictions of blood/violence  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- religious trauma/guilt

It was honestly amusing how adorable Bad looked - his cookie colored hair was soft and fluffy, the thin strands combed neatly through and smelling of roses. His smooth black jeans were paired with a light red hoodie that covered him like a blanket. His green eyes caught the light and illuminated like halos, sparkling and complementing his soft pink lips.

It was a perfect façade. 

A hunter underneath the guise of an angelic best friend.

Bad was seen as a pure soul for all of his life. He was the sweet, forgiving friend of the group, known for never swearing or being anything but kind. He was polite.

Submissive.

Weak.

The idea of being that boy again made him want to scream. It clashed entirely with the person he had become; anything but pure. Still, he wore the angelic disguise as a way to lure in Skeppy.

He was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Underneath his pastel sweatshirt sleeves was a bleeding hand, bandaged with layers of gauze and faith.

Time dragged on painfully towards nine PM. Bad spent his time pacing his apartment, sharpening his blade, picking at his scarred skin. It was maniacal behavior. He felt like a wolf trapped in a cage. Even though it drove him mad, he tried to stay patient. The thought of what was to come was more than enough motivation to stay calm and collected.

When he entered his room for maybe the tenth time, the tilted cross on the wall caught his eye. It had been like that for, what was it, weeks? He never adjusted it. A quiet, sinister chuckle escaped his fanged smile. Silently he recited a prayer.

_ In the name of the Father, _

_ and of the Son, _

_ and of the Holy Spirit, _

_ Amen. _

_ Bless us, O Lord, _

_ and these thy gifts, _

_ in which we are about to receive. _

_ From thy bounty, _

_ through Christ, our Lord, _

_ Amen. _

Bad brought his clasped hands up to his mouth, delivering a light kiss to his thumbs. 

After giving grace, his guest had arrived at the door with three knocks. He made his way to the door, snickering under his breath. 


	13. chapter thirteen (the final chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after much waiting, here's the final chapter to touched by angels though I fall out of grace. thank you for all the support and kind comments during the process of making my first ever multiple chapter fic! I don't plan to continue it after this chapter, but I might make more fics. whatever the future holds :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> \- GRAPHIC depictions of blood, gore, violence  
> \- blasphemy  
> \- religious trauma/guilt

It felt like torture, the never resting thoughts that made his skin crawl every second they appeared then disappeared. Two equally strong forces were ripping Bad in half as he lay still, Skeppy leaning on his shoulder while a movie rolled in front of them. Oh, how much he adored this feeling. His best friend slowly falling asleep on him, his smaller body curled up warmly against his side. How much he adored the shivers every small movement Skeppy made gave him, so flustered as if they hadn't already admitted their feelings for each other. As if he had something to hide. Bad could lay there with him forever, listening to each other's heartbeat. 

Equally as much, if not more, it was pure agony how badly he wanted to slowly wrap his hand around Skeppy's neck, squeezing until he became unconscious. How badly he wanted to touch his tongue to an open slit on his soulmate's skin. To stain his teeth red with his blood. 

The diametrically opposed forces made it feel like Bad was the one being sliced open and torn apart.

"...Bad?" Skeppy asked in a sleepy voice. He lazily lifted his head off Bad's shoulder, eyes lidded heavy with sleep.

"Hey, sleepyhead. You fell asleep on my arm, you silly muffin." Bad cooed. He reached a hand out to cup the soft side of his cheek, which melted into Bad's touch. Bad could feel his heart shatter.

"I'm so tireddd," the younger boy yawned. Bad let out a small chuckle.

"Why don't we go sleep together?" 

Skeppy suddenly looked up at Bad through his eyelashes. Though the room was dark, a clear expression of worry was glazed over his black eyes.

"Oh- no, not like that, I mean-" Bad fumbled over his words, now obviously more anxious than Skeppy. "I meant we can just lie down. Together." It made Skeppy giggle softly.

"Let's go." he agreed with a slight lisp in his adorable voice.

  
  


By the time Skeppy had fallen asleep in the arms of Bad on his bed, they had both lost track of time. Their only indication that it was night was the large white moon gleaming through Bad’s bedroom window, illuminating a small streak of light onto the two boys. It was all silent except for the small breaths moving in and out of Skeppy’s pink lips. He was curled up to Bad’s side, his head resting on his shoulder. Bad’s arm was wrapped around the boy’s back, where he drew small circles with his thumb into his hoodie. Skeppy was truly beautiful when he was asleep, Bad had always thought. The way his long eyelashes gracefully fell above his rosy cheeks. The way his mouth slightly opened, letting out deep breaths that blew warm air onto Bad’s neck. But the thing he loved most about watching his lover sleep so closely to him was much unlike all other reasons. It wasn’t out of admiration or love for how adorably unaware he was of his beauty, it wasn’t out of the aesthetically pleasing way he looked like a living painting, it wasn’t anything like that at all. It was much more violent. Much more dark. Almost primal.

What Bad simply loved most about watching Skeppy sleep was how easy it would be to do anything he wanted to him.

Bad’s pale eyes darted down to Skeppy’s throat, where his loose hoodie neckhole left his bruised neck exposed to the cold air. The bruises were purple and blue, almost healed but not quite. His neck was his most sensitive area. Gingerly, Bad brought his hand up to the boy’s throat and lightly grazed the bruises with the back of his fingers. His delicate touch was the polar opposite of his urge to grab the sleeping boy’s neck and squeeze the oxygen out of it. Moving his hand upwards, Bad brushed his thumb against the boy’s lips, biting his own. They had kissed that night a few times. Though Bad was still quite pissed at Skeppy, he thought it was best to let their lips touch as not to scare him off. He needed to play the role of someone who wouldn’t want to hurt him. 

But now that Skeppy was fast asleep, Bad didn’t need to play any role. He could be his pure, unfiltered, self. He smiled brightly in the dark. His eyes thinned like that of a wolf watching its prey.

It took him a few tries to get up from the bed without waking up Skeppy. Silently, he shifted his weight until his feet were grounded on the bed, wiggling his arms and torso out from beneath the boy. Luckily, Skeppy was pretty lightweight, so it wasn’t hard to manipulate his entangling arms. When he was free of his angelic cage, Bad went straight for his desk drawer to retrieve the several items he had hid there previously.

A silvery kitchen knife, his holy conductor.

A beautiful Catholic rosary, beaded with black onyx and silver plated metal.

  
A roll of shiny black duct tape.

Still silent, Bad walked over to Skeppy. He ripped off a strip of tape, covering up the boy’s sickeningly sweet lips and flattening down the tape with his fingers. Bad slowly and silently lifted the blue hoodie off of Skeppy’s body, discarding it on his bedroom floor and leaving his entire torso exposed. Just as he had expected, the still healing scars were littered across his body like streaks of lightning. They were disgustingly bruised and scabbed, the thread of the stitches digging in and out of his skin like a serpent weaving through grass. It looked like a beautiful galaxy. Bad could stare at his work for hours. Even so, he picked up Skeppy and carried him to his gaming chair situated in front of his desk. He had to ignore the passive beauty of the boy if he wanted to indulge in the bliss of violence.

Bad was almost done setting everything up. Skeppy was slouched in his chair, eyes still closed and chest moving slowly up and down. Humming a little song, Bad polished his kitchen knife with his shirt so it sparkled in the pale glow moonlight. Every now and then he found it hard to keep himself from giggling at the entire situation. Maybe pride had gotten the best of him, but he was so pleased with how  _ easy _ it was to have Skeppy exactly where he wanted. 

_ “Mmm-”  _

His smile dropped in an instant as he whipped his head around to stare at the source of the noise. Skeppy’s tired eyes were open, blinking tiredly. It didn’t take long for him to realize his position. It also didn’t take much longer for him to spot the all too familiar weapon nestled in Bad’s tight grip. 

Skeppy didn’t have a chance to scream before Bad was crouched down in front of him, the tip of his blade lightly pressed against his soft windpipe.

“Better keep it down, Muffin. I’d hate for anyone but me to hear you.” he huffed, exhilaration getting him high. The excitement made his eyes widen. Despite his state, his voice remained sweet as if they were having a normal conversation.

Skeppy whined, thrashing around in the chair. Because of Bad’s position trapping him beneath him, all the boy could do was kick his legs. There was no way he could leave. 

Bad didn’t break eye contact as he held his knife in one hand and reached for his rosary with the other. He grabbed the hyperventilating boy’s hands, tying them together with the holy necklace. The beads bound his hands tightly in front of him. The cold metal of the jewelry made Skeppy shiver as he realized he was half naked in front of Bad. 

Bad slammed his left arm against the back of his chair, further trapping Skeppy under him. The terrified boy’s breath increased immediately, soft whimpers coming from underneath the sticky duct tape gag. Bad slowly raised his blade in his right hand, bringing it to Skeppy’s chest. The boy tried to control his breathing so as not to bring his skin too close to the sharp blade. Lightly and painfully slow, Bad traced the scars on his skin, dragging the knife further and further down the center of his torso. He didn’t press hard enough to break the skin, but just light enough to create pressure. It was like he had mastered how to best use his knife. 

Bad looked into Skeppy's eyes. They were large and dark, pitch black in the night. They squeezed shut, a tear falling out from his dark lashes. He could hear the boy sob with his taped mouth, sweat beading at his forehead despite his bare skin exposed to the cold night. Bad brought a large soft hand to the side of Skeppy's cheek. The boy didn't fight back or protest his delicate touch. It was like he had given up trying to defend himself entirely. He just let Bad softly caress his face as he shook, crying but making no noise. 

To his surprise, Skeppy's black mouth covering was ripped off slowly. He opened his eyes partially to see Bad peeling the tape off from his pink lips. Skeppy breathed in through his mouth immediately, huffing and searching for oxygen. His chapped lips were slightly bloody from the tape peeling off his dry skin. Bad was now holding both sides of Skeppy's face, his knife still in one hand. His touch made Skeppy weakly melt, eyelids drooping. Bad leaned in and tilted his head to one side, capturing the bloody lips in a soft and hungry kiss. His tongue flicked over Skeppy's bottom lip, the taste of his sour blood making him shiver in pleasure. Skeppy sleepily tried to kiss back but was too weak to lift his head up to Bad's. He felt like he was starting to fall asleep. 

_ Swing _ .

"Ah-!" Skeppy yelped, his head falling backwards alarmingly fast. His stomach turned and his legs flew upwards, unable to catch himself. Bad had reclined his gaming chair to lean back completely, sending Skeppy backwards in a sudden movement. Bad smiled as he stood now above Skeppy, whose chest was pounding. 

"Did that scare you, Muffin?" Bad twirled his kitchen knife in his hands, walking around the horizontal chair. It was his surgical table, and Bad was the surgeon. "I'm so sorryyy," he sang sweetly. Skeppy was now hyperventilating.

"Bad- no- please-" Skeppy shouted as the surgeon lowered his knife to his chest, dragging it like he had before.

"I'm not  _ doing _ anything!" Bad giggled. He crouched down by Skeppy's side, lazily dragging the knife across his scarred chest. This time he was less careful as the blade caught a stitch, slicing the thread. It made Skeppy yell.

"Skeppy?"

"Bad, please-"

"Have I ever said how beautiful your skin is?"

Skeppy shut his eyes. His heart had never beat this loud.

"You wear that adorable little hoodie so often, I never get to see how perfect your body is- it's a little selfish, you know? Being selfish is a sin." 

"Bad-" Skeppy's voice was almost primal, fearfully begging.

"Repent."

Silence hung in the air for a small moment, only interrupted by Skeppy's small scream as Bad's blade sliced his skin with a little cut. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I sinned, Bad-" cried Skeppy. Tears ran down his cheeks from the pain.

"Good boy," Bad lifted his knife, tasting the ruby red blood that stained its blade. "But you  _ know _ that's not how you confess. Want to try again, Muffin?" 

"F-Forgive me, Father. I have sinned."

"Gooood boy." Bad brought his hand down to Skeppy's wavy hair, gently brushing through it with his fingers as if he was praising a pet. His position of power made his blood rush and his head light. It felt so fucking good. 

"You know," Bad replaced his knife on Skeppy's chest once again, continuing to lightly slice and cut into him. "There's far more things you can repent about…" 

"Yes… Father." Skeppy breathed heavily, staring at Bad's shining knife.

"But I don't think we'll be able to get through  _ all _ of that. No no no, that would take way too long. You're just that filthy of a sinner."

"Mmh-" Skeppy cringed whenever the blade cut too deep. It made his whole body jump.

"So why don't you just admit how filthy you are? I think that would suffice.

Go ahead."

Skeppy looked at Bad's smirking face which stared back down at him. Drops of blood were dripping down the side of his lips and was smeared around on his cheeks. Dark circles underlined his serpentine eyes, dilated in the darkness of his room. Demonic was the only way to describe him.

"I'm a sinner." Skeppy confessed with a quiet, hollow voice. He sounded exhausted.

"Say you're full of sin."

"I- I'm full of sin."

Bad smiled upon hearing Skeppy's admissions.

"Say I'm holy."

"You're holy." Skeppy moaned, his tears starting to well up again.

"Who is?" Bad milked, bringing his knife higher and higher to Skeppy's throat.

"H-Halo…"

The nickname made Bad stop suddenly. Halo? 

"Say that again."

"Halo, you're holy… Halo, you're…" Skeppy's voice was now so quiet it was hard to hear what he was saying. Bad looked down to see how much blood Skeppy had lost from his wounds. Blood was spilling from a myriad of cuts on Skeppy's chest, pouring onto the chair and floor beneath him. His hands bound with the rosary were stained red and were sticky with his own blood. It was gorgeous, Bad thought to himself.

"Skeppyyy," he sang, trying to get him to speak up. "Come on, say it. I want to hear you."

" _ Halo… _ "

Skeppy's tired eyes gazed into Bad's giggling face, the last thing he saw before letting his eyelids close in defeat. He was so sleepy now, no oxygen left in his body's blood cells. Bad waited for him to finish his sentence. Tired of waiting, Bad huffed through his nose and lifted his knife with both hands. 

With all his force, he plunged the knife into Skeppy's throat. Blood gushed out like a fountain, splattering onto Bad's glasses and face. He lifted his knife up and then stabbed again, widening the slit in the boy's throat. Skeppy's throat gurgled as more blood poured from his neck and mouth. Bad didn't stop stabbing him until his arms grew tired and covered in Skeppy's cold blood.

The knife clattered to the floor. 

  
  
  
  
  


It was early in the morning, the church empty and silent. Bad made the sign of the cross before entering the cathedral and walking over to a confession booth where a priest sat on the opposite side of. He closed the door behind him, sighing tiredly and clasping his hands in prayer. He looked up at the crucifix hanging above the confessional window. 

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."


End file.
